


We’ll take the best parts of ourselves and make them gold

by Frenchibi, thunderingskies



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Knights - Freeform, M/M, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 04:04:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11729136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frenchibi/pseuds/Frenchibi, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderingskies/pseuds/thunderingskies
Summary: He remembers running through fields of gold, remembers laughter and stories, shared and discarded in equal parts in days that seemed endless, in limitless hope and wide-eyed wonder, in excitement and opportunities.He remembers wooden swords and shields, carved carefully by a man he loved like his own father - gifts that fueled dreams.But most of all, he remembers warmth - and a face, clear as day, to go with the feeling of a hand holding his. A face, a grin, toothy and wide, freckles like stars.“When I grow up, I’m going to be a knight!”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Brace yourselves - it's going to be a bumpy ride with lots of angst, fluff, pining and ( _promise_ ) a happy ending.  
> Thank you for reading, we hope you enjoy!  
> \- CJ

Tooru has a dream.

It’s been with him for as long as he can remember, really - the beginnings of it aren’t clear in his mind, hazy like so many childhood memories become with time, but he knows the thought it was born from, because it’s a thought that governs most of his choices.

He remembers running through fields of gold, remembers laughter and stories, shared and discarded in equal parts in days that seemed endless, in limitless hope and wide-eyed wonder, in excitement and opportunities.

He remembers wooden swords and shields, carved carefully by a man he loved like his own father - gifts that fueled dreams.

But most of all, he remembers warmth - and a face, clear as day, to go with the feeling of a hand holding his. A face, a grin, toothy and wide, freckles like stars.

“When I grow up, I’m going to be a knight!”

He remembers listening, with bated breath, to this boy’s stories of grand adventure, and to his promises.  _ We’ll go there, together! _

It’s a dream, yes, but it’s also a decision, when they beg their parents for permission to leave.

It’s a long ride away, and the choice of a lifetime. It means  _ never look back, _ it means  _ know who you are  _ and  _ remember where you came from. _

It means goodbye, maybe forever, to the rolling hills they called home.

“I just wish you’d let me keep you a little while longer,” is what his mother says. There’s sadness in her eyes, but hope in her voice. Tooru will learn, later, that she always knew she would have to let go. That her son would always strive for greater things, bigger things, larger than her life could provide.

When his journey begins, Tooru isn’t afraid. He’s got a hand clasping his and a dream in his heart, and enough determination to carry him there.

He knows it won’t be easy - but he’s never alone.

-

The days are long and grueling.

Tooru strains muscles that he never even knew that he had, learning how to fight; how to handle a sword, shield, and a spear. They’re fitted in armour, taught how to walk as knights, talk as knights, how to hold a line-

It’s hard work, but if this is what it takes for them to accomplish their dreams, Tooru is more than willing to make the sacrifice. 

-

“Faster!” The commander calls yet again.

Tooru grits his teeth, pushing himself up off the ground, tightening his hold on his sword.

It still feels weird in his hand.

Awkward, heavy. 

Not  _ right. _

That’ll go away, he’s sure - it  _ must _ \- but he has to focus on keeping it straight, on tightening his wrist. Swinging from all sorts of angles, not just from his shoulder, where his swing is strongest. 

He’s not as quick as the others, not as strong as Hajime-

But he can’t think of that, not now. He might not be gifted, but Tooru is, if nothing else, a damn hard worker.

He focuses on the boy standing in front of him, his training partner. He’s a shorter, stocky kid. Doesn’t have much reach, but makes up for that with power- but he’s slow, and his movements are all incredibly textbook.

Tooru inhales.

He can do this. 

The other boy moves as soon as their commander calls to start, lunging for Tooru and swinging his sword. Tooru hears it as it slices through the air next to him, sending a chill up his spine; they’re training, but the weapons are real. The fighting is real, the blood spilled is real-

Tooru parries at his next swing, feeling the pressure as he blocks, stepping back and out of it, creating more space between them. 

Tooru’s taller, faster, he can use this to his advantage-

Another swing and Tooru  _ just _ manages to dodge, turning his body and lunging forward, knocking his opponent down this time with a strong blow. This time he’s the one who hits the dirt, sputtering a bit while Tooru moves back to guard, glancing to see Hajime nodding at him approvingly from the grounds next to him.

-

“A good knight needs to know not only how to fight with a sword, but understand the craftsmanship that goes into the making of each and every blade..” The blacksmith picks up the blade, red-hot from the fire and plunges it headlong into a vat of oil, steam hissing as it rises.

The entire group of recruits watches, curious (and a little tired- they don’t get days off training very often, instead being gathered up to trek around the castle grounds, through town, or wherever their commander deems fit - but when it happens is always after a brutal week of training sessions, such as this one). Tooru’s feet still ache from the week they spent travelling through the forest, learning to hunt and survive on their own, so he leans against Hajime as they watch the demonstration.

Hajime is giving the blacksmith his rapt attention, bless his heart. Tooru chuckles under his breath when he looks over to see Hajime looking closely at the series of runes being carved on the hilt of a greataxe. 

“Hey,” Tooru whispers, nudging Hajime with his elbow. When Hajime looks over, Tooru nods at the axe that the blacksmith is currently detailing. “That one, there? It says whisper.”

“Huh?” Hajime blinks, confused. “Whisper? Why would you want your axe to say that?”

Tooru shrugs, chuckling under his breath. “Maybe you wanna be quiet like a whisper? Stealthy?”

He gets a laugh from Hajime, which he covers up quickly by turning it into a cough when the blacksmith looks up. Once his attention is elsewhere, Hajime says, “If you’re gonna be stealthy I don’t think an axe is the right choice. How do you know that anyway?”

“The library,” Tooru responds, “There’s a whole book on the rune alphabet… and there are other books with passages that use just the runes so it made sense for me to start by reading that book…”

Hajime looks over with a frown. “When did you have time to do all of that reading?”

Tooru looks away guiltily. “Well you know, sometimes we’re dismissed early, and everyone heads to sleep right away, so the library is so empty-”

“Tooru…” 

“None of the teachers seem to care, anyway, as long as I bring my own candle - found that one out the hard way - and put away anything I take out… and if I read in the library then I won’t accidentally wake anyone up-”

“Idiot,” Hajime scoffs, knocking him with his elbow. “Don’t stay up too late, okay? We should rest during our break today, sound good?” The blacksmith dismisses them with a wave of his hands. “You can tell me more about these runes while we have some lunch.”

Tooru brightens, nodding his head excitedly. “I’d love to!” 

-

Swords continue to feel weird in Tooru’s hands. He gets used to them, sure - he has to, he’s going to be a  _ knight _ for god’s sake - but it doesn’t feel quite… right. Natural. 

The first time he puts his hands on a bow, however? It’s completely different.

The delicately crafted wooden longbow is heavy, but balanced. He moves it from hand to hand, testing the weight, getting used to the feel. 

It’s good.

“The longbow takes great strength to draw, and precision to aim and shoot your arrows smoothly. When shot correctly, it can pierce right through a knight’s armor - it takes time and great dedication to learn this skill, but it’s extremely advantageous in battle,” the commander explains, walking along the line of recruits, many of whom are struggling to hold their bows correctly. He fixes their posture, adjusts their hold-

Walks up behind Tooru, noting his position, and nodding his head approvingly. 

“Notch your arrow,” he calls, and Tooru picks up one of the arrows from his quiver. He notches it as instructed, adjusting his bow, closing his eyes and inhaling. 

He’s surprised to find that he’s not even nervous.

“Draw back your bow.” His commander’s voice feels far away as he focuses in on the target nailed to a tree at the other side of the field. 

Tooru pulls back the string of his bow, feeling it tremble in his arms. It resists as he pulls, but he doesn’t let that stop them - right until it’s drawn all the way back.

He can feel his thumb twitching, he can feel his muscles burning from the effort of holding it up, but it’s good, it  _ fits- _

He hardly hears the commander’s order to  _ fire _ as he releases his bow, listening to the arrow shoot through the air, sailing across the field. Where many of his fellow recruits wind up with arrows stuck in the grass at different points on the field, Tooru looks up to find his arrow embedded deep in the trunk of a tree, just a short distance below his target. 

He grins, more than ready to spend the rest of the afternoon practicing how to shoot. 

-

Sleep becomes difficult. It’s strange, really, because he  _ feels _ more exhausted than he’s ever been in his life, yet once he’s able to collapse back in the barracks his mind races as if on overdrive. He’s thinking of all the things his commanding officers have told him - all the maneuvers, all the tactics, the plans… not to mention the  _ worrying. _

Tooru flips over on his bed, trying to cuddle up to his pillow and push away all these thoughts. He needs to sleep, he knows it- there’s no way his body can handle a full day of training tomorrow if he doesn’t get a proper night’s sleep. He kicks one leg out from under his blanket to get a little fresh air and cool off his body, sighing in frustration as this really doesn’t seem to be working-

“Hey.” A grumble from Tooru’s right has him flipping over, propping his weight up on an elbow to peer at the bed next to him… Hajime’s bed. 

“Hajime?” Tooru whispers, not wanting to wake up any of the others - not that he could, they sleep like  _ rocks _ \- “Why are you awake? You should be sleeping-”

“I could say the same for you,” Hajime interrupts him gruffly. Ah.  _ Right. _ “I can practically hear your thoughts from here. Stop worrying.”

Tooru huffs, dropping back against his bed and burying his face into the pillow. “‘m not overthinking-”

“Can’t hear you when you’re mumblin’ into the pillow,” Hajime says, leaning across the space between their beds to nudge Tooru on the shoulder. “Speak properly.”

Tooru turns his head to look properly at Hajime, his eyes adjusting enough in the dark to see his figure. He looks comfortable, sprawled out on his bed. He probably wants to sleep.

Tooru sighs. 

“Sorry,” he says instead, knowing that lying about this will get him nowhere. Hajime is too damn perceptive. “Can’t seem to turn my brain off.” 

There’s a grunt from one of the beds on the other side of the barracks, and both boys pause to see if whoever it is is going to wake up. It’s followed shortly by a snore, though - so they’re safe. 

“I know,” Hajime replies, letting out a soft breath. He  _ does _ know, and that’s the hard part. There’s not much he can do to stop the tidal wave of thoughts in Tooru’s brain and they both know it. But- “Wanna talk about it? It’s not that late yet.” 

Tooru peers over at Hajime, trying to read his expression in the dark. “It’s okay, you need your rest-”

“And so do you. Ten minutes, alright? Fresh air. Then we can come back and sleep even better than before.” Hajime’s not waiting for a response, already sliding out of bed, stepping into his boots and reaching for his coat hanging beside his bed.

Tooru breathes in, and follows. 

He really does sleep better after, too. 

-

The throne room is even larger once you’re standing in the center of it, instead of off to the side. It also feels, to Tooru, like it’s growing in size with every pair of eyes that is resting on them now.

They came here only twice before - it’s a ceremonial hall, after all. The entrance ceremony is conducted here, as well as a lesson in etiquette - and this, right now. The highest privilege for a student at the Academy: ten years of training, to be chosen and appointed.

Tooru wants nothing more than to glance over to his right, to share this feeling, but he keeps his head down.

_ We’ve made it. _

“What do you fight for?”

The prince’s voice rings clear into the silence, authoritative even through the clear youthful tone.

“Honour and Duty,” they recite, “to our land and to the Crown.”

Tooru can practically feel Hajime vibrating with excitement, and knows he is faring no better, barely concealing his elation. This is it. This is what they’ve been waiting for, what they’ve been working for, all this time.

Together.

“And what is it you vow to do?”

They raise their heads, as is the custom, to face the man they are pledging their allegiance to.

“To serve and protect, our duty and privilege.”

The prince nods, rising from his throne and motioning for them to do the same.

“Iwaizumi Hajime,” he says, “and Oikawa Tooru - you are hereby appointed to the Royal Guard.”

-

The first weeks are everything Tooru has been dreaming of - and at the same time, they’re nothing like he’d ever imagined.

Of course the fantasies they’d had as children, of fame and glory, of epic battles and endless fortune, were wiped out as soon as they started training - but still, the job does entail some of the glamour and splendour Tooru had imagined. They are direct escorts to the prince, so they go where he goes, study chambers, courtrooms, garden parties and all - but it also means following the prince’s every whim, and, most of all, a large amount of standing and waiting in silence.

Tooru knows he should be thankful for the peace and prosperity that their country is living in, shouldn’t wish for the heat of battle, the swish of blades outside of the training grounds - thankfully this is a place they frequent, as the prince seems very keen on learning everything there is to know about swordsmanship - but some small part of him, the remnants of the starry-eyed boy that no hardships could eradicate, still does.

Hajime can sense it, Tooru is sure - he’s always been able to feel his unease, sometimes even before Tooru notices it himself. He makes sure to reassure him as best he can - always catches his eye when Tooru seeks him out, always reaches out first when they have a moment to themselves, always makes a point of asking about how Tooru feels.

In that respect, it’s like nothing has changed - Hajime carries him, reliable as ever, and Tooru thanks him in grateful smiles, in shared glances and jokes, leaning into familiarity.

There is a reason, Tooru thinks, why nothing has managed to separate them. There are days when he wishes he had a name for it, wishes he could voice it and get rid of that last bit of uncertainty - but he decides against it, every time.

Hajime is here - there’s nothing more he could ask for.

-

“Where are you going?”

Tooru stops in his tracks, realizing that Hajime is no longer beside him. It’s not like they never part ways, but… usually when the night guards take their shift, the two of them head to dinner together and then back to their quarters - there’s rarely a need for them to go anywhere else. This is the life they’ve worked for, after all.

Hajime is quiet for a moment, long enough to cement Tooru’s unease.

“...are you okay?”

He takes two steps back, back to where Hajime is standing in the middle of the hall, eyes on the floor.

“Iwa-chan?”

“...I can’t go back yet,” Hajime says.

By all accounts, it makes no sense.

“What do you mean?”

Tooru doesn’t like the trepidation rising inside his chest. Hajime isn’t looking at him. Something’s very wrong.

“I’m… the Prince has asked for me.”

Tooru blinks.

“Oh. Well, we should head back then-”

“No.” 

Hajime looks uncomfortable, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “No, Oikawa, it’s… he’s asked for  _ me.” _

Tooru frowns, not understanding - they’re a pair, after all, trained together,  _ raised  _ together, appointed together, why would the Prince-

And then it sinks in, and it’s like someone poured a bucket of cold water over his face.

“...oh.”

It’s like all of his words are gone, then, sucked away with the last bit of oxygen.

Tooru knows the Prince often requests maids to keep him company, to amuse him, to entertain - and he’s heard talk of him taking stable boys too, on occasion. Sometimes there will be concubines, exotic dancers or company that can be bought for a price higher than the wages he and Hajime earn in a month.

But he’s never asked for a knight - at least not to Tooru’s knowledge.

Hajime still isn’t looking at him.

“...go ahead without me,” he says, but he makes no move to turn around.

It’s like Tooru’s thoughts are stuck in quicksand, everything feels sluggish and surreal. He doesn’t dare think of what this means, can’t seem to think anything other than  _ oh, oh, please tell me you’re lying. _

Because if the Prince is asking for Hajime, then-

It means that everything Tooru feels has to cease to exist.

_ Honour and Duty. _

It’s like the oath - nothing before the Crown. No matter what happens.

It was an easy oath to take, for Tooru, because there was only one thing he treasured more than the cause - and he’d been right beside him then.

He’s always been right beside him, just out of reach, but close enough for comfort. There, warm and comforting.

Knights are told to try and think of home, during the harshest days of training. They say it helps to remember what you’re here for, what you’re fighting for - the realm you want to protect, that keeps your loved ones safe.

When Tooru thinks of home, he sees Hajime’s face.

_ What do you fight for? _

Tooru knows the words, but there’s only one in his head, only one possible answer as he watches his partner turn and walk back the way they’d come, hands clenched tightly at his sides.

_ What do you fight for? _

Hajime stops, but he doesn’t turn around. He knows he must be listening for footsteps, waiting for Tooru to do the duty assigned to him - serve and protect.

Obey.

Tooru wishes he was more like Hajime - always the one to speak up, to defend, to give voice to injustice.

_ Honour and Duty, to my land and to the Crown. _

All he can do is stand and watch as the world crumbles around him, taking his certainty with it.

_ What do you fight for? _

_ Hajime. _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I was like "can we post another chapter this soon?" but CJ reminded me that "we do whatever we want" so hERE WE ARE!! :D I hope you guys are just as excited as we are!!  
>  ~French

The night Hajime is called for the first time is the longest night of Tooru’s life.

The walk back to their quarters passes in a blur, and it feels too long and not long enough at the same time, like something out of a nightmare where he keeps trying to move but his feet are stuck. When he finally reaches the door of their shared room, everything feels as heavy as lead, and he can’t even properly step inside - he just closes the door and leans against it, letting himself slide to the floor.

This is okay, he tells himself, because it has to be.

The Prince is young. Erratic. Fickle. Chances are, he’s just trying-

Tooru’s stomach is in knots, and he curls in over himself, wrapping his arms around his knees.

Is that better? If he’s just using Hajime for the thrill of it, just because he can?

There is no doubt in Tooru’s mind as to what Hajime has been summoned to do - and the thought alone has him sick to his stomach.

He knows it’s wrong.

He knows his place.

But his body betrays him, now and always, as the first tears start to fall and he lets out a whimper - small, barely audible, but enough to shake him to his core.

He clamps his mouth shut.

_ Honour and Duty. _

He doesn’t make another sound.

 

-

 

Eventually, he uncurls.

Stands.

Puts away his armour, his sword (still wrong, too heavy, _ too much  _ though he’s learned to carry it, wield it, breathe it) and lies down in bed.

He stays awake, staring at the ceiling, until later - much, much later - when the door is silently pushed open.

He doesn’t say a word - and Hajime must know he’s awake, he’s always known, ever since they were little.

He just listens, to Hajime’s forcibly calm breaths as he methodically puts away his own things, to the soft rustle of cloth and the scrape of armour against wood. There’s a smell that seems to cling to the air, too sickly sweet to be anything but what Tooru most dreads.

He says nothing.

Later, still, when Hajime has taken his place in the bed across the room, Tooru shifts. Turns his head, so he can look over at Hajime’s back.

He feels so helpless, then. Small and alone.

When the sobs come, he pretends not to hear.

 

-

 

It starts off small. Hajime visiting the Prince once a week, and then twice - but it feels like it takes no time at all before Tooru’s walking back to their room by himself almost every evening. He stops asking Hajime if he’s been summoned or not - he doesn’t want to hear it, and it pains Hajime to have to tell him. 

Summoned. Tooru doesn’t like that word to describe this- it doesn’t quite fit. Hajime’s not there for work, and everyone knows it. 

The only one who won’t say it to Tooru’s face is Hajime. 

Weeks pass, and Tooru only feels himself growing more and more frustrated with how annoyed and helpless he feels about the situation. 

After a particularly long day, Tooru heads back to his room, alone (as is coming to be the norm - gods, how he hates that). He’s hot and tired, his body aching from the drills they’d run today and he really wants nothing more than to collapse in bed.

Of course, it’s never quite so easy. 

He makes it back to his room, strips himself of his armour. He scrubs himself clean in the baths, taking longer than probably necessary, but the hot water helps to calm him down…

If only it could wash away all of these thoughts, too.

He hates how badly that he misses Hajime.

He hates how quickly everything changed.

But mostly, he hates how he let himself fall so hard for someone that he’s always known that he can’t have. Hajime doesn’t feel the same way as he does. He’s sworn to his duty, to his country, to his  _ god damn Prince- _

Tooru gathers himself up and out of the baths, his muscles burning in retaliation. He ignores them, stumbling out and drying himself off and throwing on a pair of soft, loose clothes to sleep in. He doesn’t bother to dry his hair, not caring if his pillow gets wet. He just needs to lie down.

By the time he’s able to flop in bed, he feels dizzy. His head is pounding and he can feel the blood rushing in his ears. He groans, annoyed. He needs to calm down his thoughts, he’s sure this is just the exhaustion getting to him, what  _ else- _

The door to Tooru and Hajime’s quarters swings open loudly, jolting Tooru up. He shifts, moving to sit up and watch Hajime enter their room.

“Sorry, were you sleeping?” Hajime steps a little closer, and he sounds… tired.

Gods, he just  _ looks _ exhausted.

Tooru tries to swallow down the lump in his throat, but it feels like it’s getting hard to breathe. 

“It’s okay,” Tooru says, shaking his head. Hajime closes the distance between them, sitting himself down next to Tooru on his bed and reaching for his forehead. He knows, of course he does, he  _ always _ does-

A smell Tooru’s grown to hate invades his senses and he freezes, pulling back and away from Hajime’s hand. 

He even  _ smells _ like the Prince now.

Tooru bites his tongue hard enough to taste blood.

Hajime pulls back his hand as if he’d touched a flame. “What is it-”

“You…” Tooru brings a hand up, squeezing the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb.  _ Gods, _ it hurts now. “You can’t just act the same, like nothing’s changed, when you come in here like  _ that! _ ” His voice is rising, anger bubbling up from where he’d tried to lock it away.

No, no,  _ not like this _ -

“Like  _ what?” _ Hajime growls, looking offended. “I was worried about you, Tooru, that’s all!”

“Worried about  _ me? _ You’re hardly even  _ here _ anymore, Hajime, you’re  _ his _ now-”

“I’m doing my  _ duty, _ Tooru.” Hajime clenches his jaw. “ _ Honour and duty,” _ he recites, but the words come out sharp, pricking Tooru like daggers. “ _ To our land and to the Crown.” _

Tooru stands up, shaking his head. He feels like he’s going to throw up. Everything hurts, this is wrong,  _ so fucking wrong- _   
“Yes, our  _ duty. _ This is what we trained for. This is what we dreamed of.” His vision is blurry, but he bites it back. Has to. “Enjoy your fucking duty, Hajime! I don’t care anymore! Do whatever the hell it is you want!” He pulls himself away, storming off, slamming the door as he leaves. He doesn’t let himself stop until he’s out of the barracks, on the castle grounds, out near the stables-

He only lets himself cry then, alone, sinking to his knees, realizing the weight of everything that he’s lost.

 

-

 

The strain is still there the next morning when they line up for duty, taking their places in front of the Prince’s chambers. Tooru can tell that Hajime is looking at him, searching, probably wondering where he’s been, why he didn’t come back-

He forces himself to look straight ahead, as ordered, as is  _ right. _

He’s not sure he knows anything anymore, after a night in the stables that saw him staring into nowhere and barely getting rest - but even when everything else is crumbling, he has a duty. That much he knows, and that much he can do. He has to. Otherwise the entire path they’ve walked to get here will have been for nothing.

“Tooru.”

He can’t help but flinch - they’re not supposed to talk, not ever, they’re supposed to be silent protectors, what is he  _ thinking- _

“Tooru, listen, I-”

They both jump at a sound from the other end of the hallway - a maid, walking briskly towards them with her arms full of sheets. Tooru straightens up, letting his eyes follow her for a second as she passes.

Hajime doesn’t try to speak again.

 

-

 

Tooru avoids Hajime for the rest of their shift - or rather, the shift does it for him.

They accompany the Prince to his lessons, and then out to the training grounds. He’s practicing with the morning star today, and not faring particularly well. In all honesty, Tooru only knows one person who is acceptable at wielding it, and that’s the commander back at the academy.

The Prince’s instructor is good enough, but only at the basic technique.

Usually this is where Hajime and Tooru get to spar as well, as long as they keep the surroundings in their sights - the castle is secure, and being on the training grounds usually gives them an opportunity to talk. This time, though, Tooru purposely ignores the glances Hajime sends his way and sticks close to the Prince and his instructor, feigning interest and making his own attempts with the weapon.

Hajime isn’t slow, in that respect - he knows what Tooru is doing, and after a while he backs off, moving away to do some training of his own.

Tooru is glad to push whatever conversation they surely will have to have soon from his mind, glad to pretend for a moment that everything is alright, that he’s not being consumed by guilt, by shame - but his body betrays him, eyes seeking Hajime out after a mere ten minutes, on instinct.

He doesn’t spot him at first, and immediately feels worry constricting his chest because he always sticks close-

But then his stomach drops.

Hajime is standing by the shooting range, a bow in his hand and a quiver of arrows strapped to his back.

Tooru bites his lip and turns away.

Hajime never could really get the hang of archery - it always was Tooru’s specialty. Hajime is better with blades, any sort, really, and he seems to lack some basic requirement for long-range combat. It suits him, Tooru thinks, because he’s straightforward and honorable, a hero if ever Tooru’s met one.

Immediately, darker thoughts cloud his mind. It doesn’t suit Hajime one bit, being treated like a  _ concubine.  _ He’s a knight, strong, reliable, loyal-

The words turn bitter even as he thinks them.

_ What am I doing? _

He’s ripped from his thoughts by the sound of approaching footsteps, and he turns to see a messenger jogging towards them, looking slightly winded.

“Your Highness - your guest has arrived!”

The Prince drops the morning star, letting it clatter to the ground rather noisily.

“Ah,” he says, “Finally! I must go greet him at once! Guards, escort me back inside!”

Tooru nods, handing his own weapon to the instructor before he turns to call Hajime over.

To his surprise, he’s already approaching - he must have heard the commotion, too.

They hang back several paces behind the Prince, as they’ve always been instructed, and this time when Hajime glances over at him, Tooru meets his gaze.

“...already?” Hajime mouths, eyebrows furrowed. Tooru nods.

They know they’ve been expecting the arrival of a Lord from the neighbouring kingdom, a young man of roughly the Prince’s age, an old friend - no one had told them he would be arriving on this particular day, however.

Hajime straightens up again, eyes facing forward - but Tooru doesn’t miss how he allows their arms to brush briefly as they walk, a tiny touch that’s meant to reassure and reaffirm.

_ Are we okay? _

Tooru swallows, and makes sure to step just out of his reach.

 

-

 

When they arrive in the throne room, there are about forty people waiting for them already. The Lord seems to only have brought a small escort this time, but an elite one, to be sure.

Hajime and Tooru stay back as the Prince steps forward to greet his guest, falling in line with the two other guardsmen sent to relieve them for the evening. Introductions are brief, the Prince dismissing them with a wave of his hand and gesturing for his friend to follow him outside.

Tooru feels the Lord’s lingering gaze as he takes his place next to Hajime, hand on the hilt of his sword, as he was taught. He looks at the ground, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He doesn’t miss the way that Hajime bristles as the Lord walks past them and out to the courtyard, an unmistakable grin on his face.

**Author's Note:**

> We'd love to know what you think, and if you're excited for more updates! Drop a comment below, or come find us on tumblr:
> 
> [CJ's tumblr](http://josai.tumblr.com/)   
>  [French's tumblr](http://frenchibi.tumblr.com/)


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